Pink Calibur: Rise of Cutefuzzia
by DarkFacade-88
Summary: Ok, a lot of people want Soul Edge. Unfortunately, there is now a new divine contender for the blade who has just got it. To make a long story short, the world is very, very doomed.
1. Why Gods Don't Gamble

Summary: Ok, a lot of people want Soul Edge. Unfortunately, there is now a new divine contender for the blade who has just got it. To make a long story short, the world is very, very doomed.  
  
Disclaimer: Hmmm....Do I own SC2? No, the answer is no. All characters (except a special few) belong to Namco.  
  
PROLOGUE – WHY GODS DON'T GAMBLE  
  
Now then, the planet Earth is very big. That is obvious. Another important fact: the country known to most as Germany is also big compared to some other nations in Ye Olde Europe. Something else that should be known: the abnormally imposing castle belonging to one Baron Mickey von Mickelheim is also pretty big. Inside this castle, or what was left of this castle, there was something else very big, the 7-year-old golem named Astaroth, who had a very big ax that he was using to battle the not-so-big demon known as Inferno. Ok, that's a lot of very big things, but the most important very big thing is the very big thing that was about to happen. An unfortunate incident that would change the world forever was about to occur...and, even more unfortunately, it looked very pink.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lightning crashed and thunder rolled cacophonously in the heavens, rending the very sky asunder as two mighty combatants fought beneath the daggers of light that flickered every so often. The looming ebony structure of Castle Mickelheim, now without a visible roof, sat also beneath that stormy sky, slowly being torn apart by the warriors who battled within it for the future of the miserable little planet they were both standing on.  
  
The colossal golem hacked madly at the skeletal creature that danced about wildly in front of him. He was particularly strong for a beast of only 7 years, but just not fast enough to keep the sickly corpse wreathed in flame that was running circles around him from, well, running circles around him. Astaroth, his ghastly eyes practically bulging out of an oversized skull, swung his ax about in melodramatic arcs (if such a thing is at all possible), still completely unable to make physical contact with his high- temperature opponent. He couldn't even come close to hitting his mighty foe, who was merely toying with him at this point. Gasping for air after a good three hours of battle, the golem suddenly stopped and raised a halting hand.  
  
"Wait, stop," the golem cried, panting madly. He lowered his ax to the ground and rested on it, sweating bullets, "Just give me a minute to catch my breath."  
  
Inferno halted in mid-stride and turned to face the golem. He crossed his arms in front of him and tapped a fiery foot on the marble floor tiles impatiently.  
  
Astaroth began to regain his composure, lifted his head, and murmured, "Alright, I'm good. We can fight now." He paused momentarily, gesturing down, "By the way, your shoe's untied. Just thought you'd like to know."  
  
A puzzled look crossed the flaming skeleton's unperceivable face. He instinctively leaned down to tie his shoe only to realize about a second too late that fiery demons of the apocalypse don't where shoes.  
  
Astaroth's ax slammed with all the golem's force into Inferno. Despite not having much of a facial expression, the familiar "Oh shit" look could be clearly seen on the demons features as half of his body flew through the air and into a wall while the other half lingered for a minute before crumbling into a heap of withering marrow.  
  
Laughing to himself with that obnoxious guttural laugh that he possessed, the grandiose golem strode briskly over to the upper half of Inferno and plucked a very large blade from his gnarled, no longer fiery, fingers. He threw the blade up in the air and caught it with a bellicose chuckle as the sword's eye slowly peeled open, looking at the golem servant of Ares.  
  
"You," said the sword, with a hint of irritation in its voice, "What do you want? You know, it's considered very rude to wake inanimate objects when they're trying to sleep."  
  
"Shut up, sword," responded the golem bluntly. Oddly, the sword looked insulted. Astaroth quickly salvaged the situation. "Ok, ok, that was uncalled for. Sorry about being rude and waking you up and all but, you see, I need to give you to my master, the mighty deity of fire and war and other nasty stuff, Ares."  
  
"Fine," sighed the sword, "Just don't take too long with whatever you're doing. I have an appointment with a nice shiny whetstone at 4 o'clock tomorrow. It's a really nice whetstone in Bombay, lots of other nice swords frequent the spot and I've always wanted to file my burs there since no evil warrior of darkness has any notion of proper sword care and-"  
  
"Yes, that's good." replied the golem curtly.  
  
He no longer listened to the blade as he turned his face upwards to the stormy maelstrom above, which could clearly be seen through the destroyed roof of Castle Mickelheim. The clouds began to swirl around a pale light that shone through the dark slits in the smoky clouds. The light's color became pallid and nearly translucent, allowing the shifty shadows to waft through them like smoke. The entire bizarre weather metaphor had Astaroth baffled, since he had no idea what a metaphor was (or a simile, for that matter). He just looked on as a divine fire began to radiate in the sky.  
  
"-so it's not really as enjoyable as it's made out to be, being a sword, especially after people use you to beat other people for no apparent reason. Also, a good self-respecting sword like me is never able to find a nice, conservative, girl sword on this damn planet. Oh, I've always dreamed of settling in a little cottage with a bunch of little daggers all my own and-"  
  
Astaroth ignored Soul Edge's ramblings and kept his pale eyes focused on the big light in the sky. Suddenly, the clouds began to manifest themselves into more visible shapes. A great pair of brawny cloud arms sprouted strangely out of the sky and the beams of fiery light swirled into two ovular eye shapes, like a couple of lighthouses that shined their otherworldly rays down onto the planet, scanning the whole expanse until they came to rest on Astaroth.  
  
"ASTAROTH," boomed the thunderous voice of Ares, "YOU HAVE DONE WELL!"  
  
"-and there's not a lot you can do, being a sword, even though I only ask for a little cleaning every now and then and some souls to munch on. Nobody cares about proper sword cleaning nowadays, honestly. I mean, the other day- "  
  
"SILENCE!" boomed the war deity. Soul Edge promptly shut up.  
  
"AS I WAS SAYING, YOU HAVE DONE WELL!"  
  
Astaroth bowed humbly to the two lighthouse eyes of Ares.  
  
"Yes, my lord Ares. I give to you the weapon that shall give you dominion over these lands. The mighty sword, Soul Edge, is yours, my master." He raised the sword, offering it up.  
  
"ACTUALLY, THE MIGHTY SWORD, SOUL EDGE, IS NOT MINE!"  
  
Astaroth's head shot back up. "Then who's is it? I'm giving it to you!"  
  
"ASTAROTH," the voice said nervously, "THIS MAY NOT MAKE A LOT OF SENSE RIGHT NOW, BUT THE SWORD IS NOT BEING GIVEN TO ME! IT NOW BELONGS TO MY LITTLE SISTER, JENNY!"  
  
The golem's heart promptly stopped beating.  
  
"Pardon?" he chuckled, more nervously, "What was that you just said? I think I had a liver in my ear."  
  
"YOU HEARD RIGHT, ASTAROTH! I'LL BE HONEST WITH YOU, SINCE YOU'RE A PRETTY GOOD EVIL MINION! I SORT OF LOST A BET WITH MY SISTER, JENNY, GODDESS OF EVIL FUZINESS AND MISTRESS OF THE HELL-BUNNY HORDES. SHE BET THAT YOU WOULD GET THE SWORD FOR ME AND, RATHER OBVIOUSLY, SHE HAS WON!"  
  
"WHAT? What did you bet?"  
  
"I BET THAT THE CREEPY ITALIAN DUDE WOULD GET IT FIRST!"  
  
"You bet against your own minion!?"  
  
"WELL, YES. I HAVE A LOT OF CONFIDENCE IN THE AFOREMENTIONED ITALIAN DUDE!"  
  
"That's insane. If I wasn't already your servant eternal, I would quit!"  
  
"YEAH, YEAH, SURE, SURE, WHATEVER. YOU STILL HAVE TO GIVE THE SWORD TO JENNY SO SHE CAN RE-MAKE THE WORLD HOWEVER SHE WANTS WITH ITS UNSTOPPABLE POWER!"  
  
"But what about me?" bellowed the golem from below.  
  
"DON'T WORRY. YOU'LL STILL BE EVIL. YOU'LL JUST BE THE EVIL MINION OF JENNY FROM NOW ON. OK, I'M PUTTING JENNY ON THE LINE. PREPARE YOURSELF, BUDDY!"  
  
Astaroth just stared, wide-eyed, as the two fiery lighthouse eyes became two pink bunny-shaped lighthouse eyes. The big muscular cloud hands shrunk into a pair of slender female hands.  
  
"OOOOOOH!" shrieked a booming yet ditzy voice from the heavens, "I WON! IWONIWONIWON! IN YOUR FACE, BRO!"  
  
A very loud grumbling could be heard, but the shrill voice of Jenny, Goddess of Evil Fuzziness, ignored it.  
  
"THE SWORD IS MINE! NOW I CAN MAKE THIS FILTHY LITTLE PLANET A LAND OF BEAUTY, CUTENESS, AND EVIIIIIIIIIIL! WOOOOOOOO EVIIIIIIIL!"  
  
Before Astaroth could comment, the slender cloud hands shot downward and plucked the sword, Soul Edge, out of the golem's outstretched hands.  
  
For the golem, and everything else on Earth, the world suddenly went pink.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Astaroth sat up in his amazingly girly bed, lying on top of powder blue sheets.  
  
"Oh thank Ares, it was just a dream." He said aloud.  
  
"Not exactly," squealed a voice from beside the bed.  
  
The golem, praying fervently that the whole experience with Jenny, Goddess of Evil Fuzziness, had been a nightmare, hopped out of the king-size bed swiftly.  
  
He almost fell back onto it a moment later.  
  
Standing, or rather squatting, in front of him was a bunny. No ordinary bunny, though. This bunny was five feet tall, covered in pink armor, and had muscular arms and legs like that of a buff human. Despite the bunny's incredible physique, it still had the undersized head of a pink rabbit, with huge floppy ears, bambi eyes, and a long blue horn spouting out of its forehead.  
  
"What the hell are you?" Astaroth said, immobilized by shock.  
  
"I am your new lieutenant, Pinkfluff, Captain of Cutefuzzia." The adorable voice returned.  
  
"No." said Astaroth, mouthing more words which couldn't find there way past his swinging uvula.  
  
"I'm afraid so," said Pinkfluff, "I have come from the court of Lady Jenny, Goddess of Evil Fuzziness, to give you your first mission."  
  
"I'm not doing anything for her." said the golem, resurrecting some confidence.  
  
"Doesn't matter what you think. You have to go out onto this world, wreaking pink havoc on its inhabitants at the head of an army of Cutefuzzian elite, and seek out the warriors who oppose you. Actually, Milady Jenny has a nice list written up for you. You are already acquainted with some of the warriors you have to find, I believe; Maxi, Kilik, Xiang-"  
  
"I already told you, my allegiance is to Ares, not this Jenny."  
  
"The contract is already signed, buddy. Have a look in the mirror and see."  
  
Cutefuzz held up a mirror rimmed with pink-painted sterling silver. Astaroth looked in it and promptly swooned, falling backward gracefully onto the powder blue sheets.  
  
He hadn't actually had time to look carefully at his own reflection. All he knew and all he cared about was the gnawing fact that he was wearing a neatly ironed bunny suit.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Stay tuned for Chapter 2 – Bambi Eyes and Barbie Thighs, Coming Soon 


	2. Bambi Eyes and Barbie Thighs

Disclaimer: Namco owns SC2, I don't. Namco, not me: Repeat: Namco, not me, Namco, not me, Namco, not me. Have we got that? I do, however, own Pinkfluff, Jenny; Goddess of Fuzzy Evil, and the Hell-Bunny Hordes.  
  
CHAPTER 2 – BAMBI EYES AND BARBIE THIGHS  
  
The world, formerly known as Earth, now under the sole rulership of Cutefuzzia, the heavenly kingdom belonging to Ares' little sister, is doomed. Strangely enough, despite being doomed and eternally altered to the grotesque pink whims of Jenny, Goddess of Fuzzy Evil, there are still heroes left in the world.  
  
Pink was all Astaroth could see. Pink as far as the horizon stretched. Horrible, disgusting, oodles of pink. So much pink, in fact, that Astaroth felt like vomiting pink vomit and crying pink tears and eating pink food and just plain thinking pink.  
  
In actuality, there was also a good amount of cerulean, white, and some urple (not entirely purple). The grand army of Cutefuzzia stood in perfect bunny formation on the plateau outside what was left of Castle Mickelheim. Using divine powers, Pinkfluff, Captain of Cutefuzzia, had given the stingy old fortress a nice makeover during the night, while Astaroth, newly outfitted in a bunny suit, slept in his king-size bed. The castle was now something out of a picturesque fairytale, despite being evil. It had picturesque marble walls painted sky blue with purple polka dots. It had little blue shards of wood bound together for roofs, covered with bizarre pink hay thatch. The towers were considerably less menacing when each turret bore a small bust of a bunny.  
  
"Quite an operation you've got going on here," murmured the golem wistfully, "I think you need to start using colors that aren't so," he paused, "So very, very pink."  
  
"Lady Jenny likes pink," shot back the adorably cuddly voice of Pinkfluff, "She also has a soft spot for cerulean, white, and urple. No one can contend with her will now that she possesses the sword. Now, Astabunny, it is time for-"  
  
"Excuse me," interrupted the golem, "Did you just say 'Astabunny?'"  
  
"Your new name. So, as I was saying, it is time for you to lead the mighty hordes of Cutefuzzia to victory over this world and conquer every corner of the planet. The heavenly empire of Cutefuzzia has assembled this great army of bunny warriors and great puffleslashers for you to lead!"  
  
"Puffleslashers?" groaned Astar- I mean Astabunny.  
  
"Those things in the back." Pinkfluff raised and adorable jagged talon to point.  
  
Astaroth's livid eyes fell upon the few ranks behind all the half-man-half- bunny warriors. There, in all their urple glory, stood great big balls of fuzz with bat wings and a bunch of nasty looking scimitars sprouting out of their incredibly cute sides. They had little specks embedded in their fuzz that were probably eyes of some sort.  
  
"Oh, those. Right. So what do I have to do exactly?"  
  
"Simple, Lord Astabunny. You must go out into this new world and slay all those who oppose you. Every hero and villain and randomly inserted person who stands in the way of Cutefuzzia!"  
  
"Yeah, sure, what the hell. I no longer have anything to lose." Murmured a dejected golem-rabbit hybrid. He surveyed the troops. It was indeed quite a line up.  
  
In front, menacing bunny spearmen, their pink blade gleaming with malice and the urple bows and ribbons in their hair fluttering in the wind. They held aloft a number of heralding banners with the heraldic device of Cutefuzzia blazoned on them, the ever-creepy red heart surrounded by blue stars on a pink background. Behind the spearmen lurked stealth ninja bunnies armed with bunnizashis, large white katanas with little panda cartoons engraved up and down the blades.  
  
Beyond them strode mighty German bunnischneckts, the warriors who hauled around outrageously large pickles, painted a truly unholy color and carefully cut to resemble two-handed zweihander swords. Mingling with the bunnischneckts were the bunnyserkers, really incredibly muscle-bound warrior rabbits who would've looked a lot more imposing if they were toting something scarier than foam-laced clubs that resemble those things you use in the 'Whack-a-Mole' games.  
  
Then, at last, the puffleslasher hordes, brimming like a bowl of vomitous pink soup way in the back. Astar- Oh, you know, I mean Astabunny, Lord Astabunny the Evil, grumbled silently to himself as he looked around at the horizon. He had noticed a while ago that the sky was now a feverish red in color and that the sun was (come on, just guess what I'm going to say. GUESS!) pink (Hell yes, you guessed it! You get a cookie!).  
  
"Where's my ax?" muttered Astabunny, exasperated.  
  
"Right here." Replied Pinkfluff, almost chuckling as he drew the refined weapon from somewhere in the depths of his really-to-big-for-a-rabbit pocket.  
  
"-so I was just battling along and some upstart stick decides it can beat it me and, oh the nerve of that bloody thing, makes me so mad when a nonmetal thinks it can challenge me, I mean think about it, isn't that outrageous? I certainly think so and-"  
  
"Shut up, ax." said Astabunny, more curtly than before.  
  
"It's Swax, I prefer to be called Swax. Not quite sword, not quite ax, Swax."  
  
The sword, ax, and swax (or axrd, as it might be known) was right about being not quite a sword and not quite an ax. Soul Edge, the overly talkative sword, and Kulutues, the mute inanimate ax, had merged. Now Astabunny held in his hands a big ax with an eyeball covered in multicolored ribbons.  
  
"Ok, let me rephrase that: Shut up, Swax."  
  
"Fine." Said the swax disdainfully.  
  
Astabunny was suddenly to busy to notice the swax's disdain as he overlooked his new weapon. The ribbons obviously stood out as he'd first seen it, but upon further inspection he came to a more painful realization.  
  
"THE EYE OF SOUL EDGE!" cried Astabunny in horror.  
  
The eye of Soul Edge, formerly very menacing, was now a very large, very blue, limpid pool of stunning Bambiness. In other words, it was a Bambi Eye, the cute retina of cuteness that seduces so many so easily.  
  
"I'm supposed to conquer the world with this?!"  
  
"In all honesty, yes." Pinkfluff's voice was just too cute to disagree with, "I wouldn't worry, though. Everything is altered, the sword, the world, everything. It has all been altered to accommodate Milady Jenny."  
  
Suddenly, a rather caustic thought hit Astabunny. "If the whole world is altered, couldn't all the warriors you mentioned just have been poofed out of existence or something?"  
  
Pinkfluff gave an exasperated but still adorable sigh. "We're bunnies, right?" Astabunny nodded, "This is a world of bunnies now, right?" another nod, "Well, IT'S A DAMN PLOT BUNNY, YOU DOLT!"  
  
"Like a literary plot hole?" suggested the bunny-golem.  
  
"And here I was thinking you were an idiot. Yes, a plot hole. Plot bunnies frolic everywhere now, wreaking havoc on the actual storyline. Point is, there would be no story if Cutefuzzia just won. That's why plot bunnies have us screwed."  
  
"Ok, that's not a good mental image."  
  
"Sorry, but I had to get the point across. These plot bunnies cannot randomly kill off your opponents, but they can alter them, as they have with the rest of the world, in horribly evil (but still very cute) ways. They're extremely evil, you know."  
  
"I'm not quite sure I understand." Astabunny scratched his head ponderously with the swax.  
  
"Here, I'll show you." Pinkfluff produced (from that really-to-big-for-a- rabbit pocket of his) a gleaming orb of pure pink. It was so pink that it momentarily blinded the golem attempting and miserably failing to look at it.  
  
"Look into it." Said Pinkfluff, both adorably and curtly.  
  
"I can't even look AT it!" retorted the golem-bunny, trying in vain to scratch his eyes out.  
  
"C'mon, look. What do you see?"  
  
Astabunny stared blankly into the orb.  
  
"Holy hell. Plot bunnies really are evil."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Here is a brief summary of what Astabunny was looking at:  
  
(The following Italian stereotype is perfectly legitimate since I am 50% Italian in my own right. I have had the great misfortune to know that the following mental image is a mental image shared by most other Italians, besides our blind/deaf/mute friend)  
  
'Spaghetti is good' thought Voldo in his sleep, 'Spaghetti is very, very good. Must have spaghetti. Where did spaghetti go? Me wantee, me no havee, Voldo want pasta.'  
  
This was not a particularly normal thought to be going through the mind of a certain blind, deaf, mute Italian who was currently sleeping in what had once been a very murky cave. Voldo's eyes fluttered open, not that this helped considering he was blind and blindfolded by pointless leather straps. What an irritating costume.  
  
He sat up, his body swaying like a branch in the wind as it always did. He looked around, again to no effect since he could not see what he was looking at.  
  
Somehow, despite not being able to see anything, Voldo knew something was extremely wrong.  
  
And, unfortunately for Voldo, he was extremely right.  
  
The Money Pit, where Voldo currently was, was no longer money-filled or, for that matter, a pit. A more appropriate name would've been "Barbie and Ken's Lakeside Getaway," considering the new look of it.  
  
It had the look of a Christopher Lowell-designed scenic townhouse, with checkered beige wallpaper and lots of plush lounge chairs. There were some modernist lava lamps sitting on tables in every corner and suspended in random places on the extremely low ceiling. There was a comfortable couch behind Voldo, which he apparently had been sleeping on, and a nice blue rug beneath him with a layer of shag carpeting stretched over the floor.  
  
Of course, the crowning glory of the room lay at the other end. A giant golden statue (painted urple, of course) of a particularly cuddly bunny.  
  
"Oh shit."  
  
For the first time in 30 years, words came out of Voldo's unused mouth.  
  
"What the hell? I can talk? I CAN TALK! ICANTALKICANTALKICAN-"  
  
He stopped, suddenly realizing several things. He could also hear and see, which was very nice, but didn't make him feel any better. His voice was not the voice he'd had 30 years ago.  
  
Question for the reader: Have you ever heard that revolting feminist sound that comes out of the "Princess Barbie who actually speaks" figurine? Well, that is exactly what Voldo sounded like.  
  
Using his completely neglected eyes, which took a second to actually peel open, he looked down instinctively and shrieked like a 5-year old girl.  
  
His thighs...should probably not be described to readers if this is to remain PG-13.  
  
"Alright," thought Voldo aloud, "There is something wrong. Something so painfully wrong its just too wrong to even be wrong. Oh so wrong." He trailed off.  
  
"Well, at least Spaghetti is good."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Shit, that's evil. That's really evil. That's just dastardly, outrageously evil." Muttered Astabunny.  
  
"Ok, ok, I get the point; plot bunnies are evil." Retorted Pinkfluff.  
  
"They're just so evil, so so evil, so so so so so evil. Evil. Evil. Evil. Evil."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
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Stay tuned for Chapter 3 – Future Syndrome, Coming Soon TO! Note to self: Don't type the whole bloody story in advance. 


	3. Future Syndrome

Disclaimer: Do I really need to say anything here? Am I Namco? C'mon. ANSWER ME!  
  
Thank you to all reviewers so far. I would like to point out that there will be grammatical and/or spelling errors every now and then, since the whole story is a bit slapped together, but it will still be comprehendible.  
  
On the subject of length, I wouldn't worry about updates. I'm already thinking ahead about this story's craziness way into Chapter 25 (wow) and trust me; the best is yet to come. There will be updates at least every 3 days, if not every other day.  
  
CHAPTER 3 – FUTURE SYNDROME  
  
I, the author of this mess of literature, would like to point out that the title of this chapter has very little to do with its contents. 'Future Syndrome' as stated by the great olde philosophers, is a subjective activity of the subconscious which forces the past to come into better perspective when weighed against the future. I assure you, you will not understand what that has to do with anything.....yet.  
  
On the subject of Plot Bunnies: Plot bunnies, the spawn of pure evil, have an extremely venomous sense of irony...and they can only speak in rhyme, which is pretty weird considering they shouldn't speak at all, being the cute little balls of evil, evil fuzz that they are. These facts are crucial if one wishes to understand anything about anything.  
  
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"AVAST, ME HEARTIES! BOARD THAT SHIP, YARR!"  
  
Cervantes de Leon, dread pirate, contemplated the disgusting stereotype he'd just reinforced by saying what he'd just said. He stroked his sideburns contemplatively as his murderous crew of brain-dead zombies with cutlasses plunged over the side of his ship and towards the other, smaller vessel that was now attached to it.  
  
"BELAY THAT!" he roared. The zombies dutifully stopped and turned to their captain, ignoring the volley of arrows from the other ship which slammed into them.  
  
"What I meant to say was 'FORWARD, MY BRETHREN! OVERCOME YONDER VESSEL!" The zombies stared at him for a moment, seemingly waiting. Cervantes knew what they were waiting for. "Oh c'mon, I do that every time!" The zombies didn't budge as more arrows collided with them. "Fine....YARR!"  
  
The piratical interjection from their captain uttered, the zombie crew continued their plunging.  
  
A conveniently timed slash from some unknown weapon sent one of the undead half-wits flying back at Cervantes. The zombie hit the side of the ship he'd come from and promptly split in half, emitting a final gurgling cry of "Braaaaiiiiiins" before the two halves of his form plummeted into the waiting sea.  
  
Another pirate, not quite as piratical as Cervantes but still very piratical in his own right, strode out of the mess of crewmembers on the overtaken ship. Now, if it were a later date in time one might be inclined to yell, "THE KING HAS RETURNED!" at the top of his or her lungs. This pirate was no king, nor was the person who he looked like.  
  
Maxi, the pirate who looked a hell of a lot like a certain king of the pelvic thrust (no, I'm not talking about Voldo, you sick, sick people), began his almost ritualistic dancing back and forth with his nunchakus like a rabid dog (hmm...bad image).  
  
"You want a fight?" he said, still dancing about, "You've got one."  
  
"Actually," replied Cervantes from the other boat, "I don't want a fight. I was really more in the mood for a pillaging, looting, larceny, kleptomania....umm...YARR!"  
  
"Well, whatever you're after, you'll have to fight me to get to it."  
  
"You're being particularly obstinate today," muttered Cervantes impatiently as he extracted his two weapons from their sheaths and entered his usual stance, perched precariously on the ship's edge. Suddenly, his piratical aura returned in full, "PREPARE TA MEET YER DOOM!"  
  
"You're all talk," shot back the other pirate, brushing aside his Elvis- esque hair strand.  
  
"I'm inclined to disagree, friend....HAVE AT YE, YE RAPSCALLION!"  
  
"Pardon. What exactly is a rapscallion?" queried Maxi as he charged onto the edge of his own ship, watching Cervantes shoot into the air and come down on him in a flash of strangely timed lightning and an augmenting roll of convenient thunder.  
  
"To tell the truth," said the dread pirate, who was now in a sword-lock with Maxi, "I'm not entirely sure. When you become a pirate, the powers that be give you a little booklet with all of the proper lingo in it. I thought you, of all people, would know."  
  
The two warriors slid back nimbly and then lunged again, looking very ferocious.  
  
Unfortunately for their ferociousnesses, that was about the moment when the world went pink.  
  
"What the hell?" murmured the pirate, ignoring Maxi who had soared past him awkwardly and toppled over the side. Cervantes looked out with dead eyes as a wave of pink swept the sea and his ship. Suddenly, a blinding light filled the area and everything basically went to hell...or pink...whichever comes first.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Cervantes awoke, unable to see anything because of the light that blinded him. He pondered for a second the fact that he was seeing this light, so he wasn't actually blind, but dismissed the fact and continued acting like he thought he should be acting...blind.  
  
"ME EYES!" he roared to no one, "ME LUVERLY EYES!"  
  
"Pirate dread who roams the sea, Shut up or I'll break your knee!"  
  
The voice was so cuddly it made Cervantes want to vomit, devour that vomit and re-vomit, and then repeat the process until he managed to vomit on the owner of that voice.  
  
"What? Who's there...YARR!"  
  
"I have fallen from the sky. Fuzzy plot bunny am I.  
  
Question not my fuzzy power Or I'll make this your final hour."  
  
"Ok, that's...very...strange. Must you rhyme like that when you speak."  
  
"Indead I must, my pirate friend. The rules of that I cannot bend.  
  
But plots and stories I can twist Until the author gets real pissed."  
  
"Why are you here? What the hell happened?"  
  
"Language, Cervy, keep it mild. This point shall soon be reconciled.  
  
If your discourse is perverse I must lay on thee a curse."  
  
That cute voice, though it was cute, was just too damn cute for the dread pirate, Cervantes de Leon.  
  
"Curse? What curse? DAMNIT, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"  
  
"Tisk, tisk, tisk, don't be so rude. Stuff like that is awfully crude.  
  
So now the problem will be solved. That language fault may be absolved."  
  
The voice paused eerily, its adorable voice swelling in volume.  
  
"CERVY, CERVY, PIRATE DREAD! I LAY THIS CURSE UPON YOUR HEAD!  
  
AS YOU CURSE WITH WORDS PROFANE YOU DRIVE ALL OF US INSANE.  
  
SO IF YOU UTTER ANYTHING, TO SAY IT, YOU ARE DOOMED....TO SING!"  
  
And the world blackened...then pinkened...then blackened again.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Maxi had a headache, which he often had considering the amount of alcohol he imbibed on almost a daily basis. He rubbed his head wearily and looked around. The blinding light that had descended on him just before he hit the water lingered.  
  
"Hello, Maxi, how art thou? Ready for your punishment now?"  
  
"Punishment for what?" groaned Maxi, rubbing his eyes and scratching his head. He'd had too much ale the other day. He decided against swearing off alcohol forever, since the flask at his hip was already beckoning seductively.  
  
"You've been bad, Maxi ol' boy, You don't have to try being coy.  
  
We plot bunnies see all, and you, Like many others of your crew,  
  
Are nothing but a drunken fool A ship you are not fit to rule.  
  
This habit vile I will reverse, By giving you its green converse.  
  
"Green converse? What are you-  
  
"Since that stuff that you humans throw Is most disgusting stuff, you know.  
  
So, in its place, the finest flowers. Now, behold my cursing powers!"  
  
Maxi would've spoken, if a strange feeling had not been welling up in his intestines.  
  
"DRUNKARD, DOTTARD, DULL-BRAINED SWAIN NEVER SHALT THOU DRINK AGAIN  
  
FOR, AS IT IS DECREED IN HEAVEN TOSS THY COOKIES, 24/7."  
  
Pink, black, pink, black, pink, black....then pink again...then black...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Cervantes' head was spinning wildly as he sat up on his ship (well, he thought it was his ship). He jumped to his feet, feeling strangely nimble.  
  
He looked around, but his vision was blurred.  
  
"IS ANNNNNNNNNNNNNYBODY THEEEEEEEEEERE?"  
  
He clapped a hand over his mouth. He had just...sung something.  
  
"WHAT THE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL WAS THAAAAAAAAAT?!" he sung again, his formerly gruff baritone a melodic soprano that was reminiscent of many female pop singers.  
  
His eyes finally came into focus. He was met with a most displeasing sight.  
  
His ship was no longer his ship, the other ship was no longer the other ship, the sky was no longer blue, the sea was no longer blue, and the world was no longer the world. To cover all facts in one sentence; Cervantes' ship was now a very large yellow turtle with sails made out of cotton candy and a crew of lollipops with legs, the other ship was the same, except that it was crewed by walking candy canes, the sky was now pinkish-red, the sea was very pink, and the world was screwed...royally.  
  
"Oh SHIIIIIIIIT! Whaaaaaaaaaat's going oooooooon here?"  
  
"Don't *censored noise* ask *censored noise* me."  
  
"Pardooooooooon?" Cervantes yelped in his resonating harmony.  
  
Maxi, now in exact Elvis attire, was staggering around on the turtle. Cervantes was a little taken aback when he opened his mouth every few seconds and an assortment of multicolored daisies, daffodils, and roses came pouring out.  
  
"Something *censored noise* is very *censored noise* very wrong."  
  
"I thiiiiiiiink your riiiiiiiiiight, babyyyyyyyy." Cervantes wasn't entirely sure why he uttered the word 'baby' at the end of that sentence, but he figured he really couldn't help it now, considering the singing curse and all.  
  
"Baby *censored noise*?" Maxi queried, tossing his flowers yet again.  
  
"Don't aaaaaaaaaask."  
  
"You still wanna *censored noise* fight?"  
  
"I sorta looooooooooost the mooooooooood."  
  
"Why are you *censored noise* wearing that?"  
  
Cervantes looked down, preparing a look of horror on his face. He was right about the horror, since what he saw was pretty horrible...really, really horrible.  
  
Cervantes de Leon, the dread pirate, destroyer of the seven seas, master of the crimson tide....was wearing a ballerina's tutu.  
  
The pirate's small mind filled with three emotions; 'I'm wearing a tutu, my career as a pirate is ruined' / 'I definitely have to kill something, primarily that plot bunny' / 'Does this outfit clash with my hat?'  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Stay tuned for Chapter 4 – What Comes of Stereotyping, Coming Soon. 


	4. What Comes of Stereotypes

Disclaimer: Must I? Must I really? *reads cue card* Ok, fine. I do not own SC2 and I bet someone's patented plot bunnies...I own nothing. *sobs*  
  
90% of Reviewers: Thanks again. Being new here, it is indeed nice to get honest (hopefully) and encouraging feedback. Thank you all once again. Two of the reviewers are 'friends' of mine outside of this site, so there reviews may merely be sympathetic (yeah, right). Rurouni KJS, may I extend special thanks to you for your review. The only reason I say this is because I had the great pleasure of reading your 2 Soul Calibur spoofs recently and was knocked from my preverbal chair, so to speak. I must admit, I don't write comedy half as well as most others.  
  
Nami + Lily: Would you please elaborate on your views? If my fanfic offends, do not hesitate to make a competent, well thought-out argument against it, since your review did not enlighten me. I fail to understand. Do go on....really...If there is some reasonable thing that you want, do not wait to make your opinion known.  
  
Author's note: This Chapter will be rife with spelling and/or grammatical errors but, as I have said, there is a reason to my madness (and a helluva lot of madness in my reason) so bear with me. Someday I might actually right a serious fanfic (have a few in the works) and then I DARE YOU TO FIND SPELLING ERRORS IN THAT! HAHA!  
  
CHAPTER 4 – WHAT COMES OF STEREOTYPES  
  
Stereotypes are bad, this fact is certain. Also, Stereotypes are rarely true (except in the case of Italians, which I mentioned earlier). Unfortunately, plot bunnies and their sick sense of humor do so love stereotyping. So, those who come in contact with plot bunnies may run the risk of being duped into becoming a living, breathing, walking, bathing, eating, killing, and gouging stereotype. I warn ye! The faint of heart (or those who are easily offended by stereotypes) should leave now!  
  
Somewhere in Northern Africa...stuff was happening...mildly interesting stuff.  
  
Beware of a blatant disregard for character development. It lies within. Be wary.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Isabella Valentine, more formerly known as 'Ivy' (well, there are other names that cannot be mentioned) and Raphael de Sorel, sometimes affectionately dubbed 'Raph' (yup, you get the idea) were in the middle of a stressful, tense, annoying, irritating, and rather painful situation.  
  
That situation had a name...and, for lack of a better name, the name of the situation was a very annoyed one-armed pogo-stick-leaping mostly insane ninja by the name of Yoshimitsu.  
  
"Namu!" roared the eccentric warrior as he charged forward.  
  
(Now, for clarification, Yoshimitsu had no idea why he charged, he just did. Raphael and Ivy didn't know what they were doing in a remote European outpost in northern Africa [which is where they are if my geography skills survived the last war]. There are a lot of things unknown in this world...from now on, I, the author, will make it my duty to find out...later)  
  
Raphael nimbly sidestepped.  
  
"Is it really necessary for you to say that all the time?" he said glumly.  
  
The ninja, who had missed his target, turned back to the Frenchman. He did not reply to the glib comment, but one could hear a groan of "Namu" from beneath his mask. Also, if that mask had not been present, one would've seen an incredibly annoyed looking Yoshimitsu.  
  
He charged again, a little more composed this time. The ninja pounced...a little too late. Ivy's twisting, physically impossible blade/whip cut him off rudely.  
  
Yoshimitsu slammed into the floor with a resounding crunch (or was it a resounding "Namu?" we'll never know, will we?). He jumped up in an instant, possibly scowling beneath his mask, or maybe just picking his nose with his tongue...but that's another story.  
  
"Stupid oaf," laughed Ivy, momentarily captivating her opponent, "How could you possibly be stupid enough to challenge me?"  
  
Raphael gestured with his rapier, "Umm..Ivy...You just called him stupid, which rather implies that he is stupid. So you're question doesn't make much sense."  
  
"It was RHETORICAL, you idiot!" snapped the Englishwoman, turning her head from the one-armed figure who was gliding nimbly towards her...for all of two seconds.  
  
She didn't notice the ninja changing his course to fly at her.  
  
Luckily, everything froze at about that second and the familiar blinding light covered everything. Ivy heard a loud noise and assumed it was Yoshimitsu hitting the floor again...or possibly firing his mechanical arm at Raphael like some bizarre appendage-torpedo of death (Some kind of Arm- Shooting-Slasher...which can be abbreviated as A.S.S., in case you want to know).  
  
And there was that voice again. Raphael, Yoshimitsu, and Ivy had never heard it before, but I'm sure all you readers are getting quite sick of the adorable rhyming by now.  
  
"No more fighting, do be quiet, that's so very impoli-et.  
  
Listen to what I must say and you may go your merry way."  
  
Raphael rubbed his eyes, Ivy rubbed her eyes, and Yoshimitsu rubbed his arm.  
  
"What trickery is this!" cried the ninja, actually saying something besides "Namu."  
  
"No trick here, my frenchie friend, nothing but some flesh to rend  
  
Ivy, Raph, watch your tone, with you I must pick a bone  
  
You two heed France and England's call, yet you pay them no heed at all.  
  
You've twisted other worldly views of your fair nations, whose are whose.  
  
So from now on don't be so dumb, act like you're from where you are from  
  
Stereotypes are bunny stuff, so on you I bestow them..."  
  
Suddenly realizing that he hadn't rhymed, the bunny promptly added "Fluff" to the phrase. Raphael and Ivy just looked at each other, befuddled and somehow very, very nervous.  
  
Neither of them could see anything because of the blinding pink.  
  
"Wha' the bloody hell d'ya think 'e was talkin' about?" said Isabella Valentine. Her voice registered in her ears, but it did not click until a minute had passed that she sounded like a drunkard from the slums of London..."Oh bloody hell!"  
  
"Oui, oui, zat's very odd, don' you tink?" said Raphael, in a stunningly perfect yet somehow horribly tainted French accent. "Ah merde! What is zis zat has come uver me?! Oh la la, zis is so horrible! My accente...it is...French!"  
  
"Oh, that's bloody fine for you, gov. At least you're not talkin' like some bloody twit. I can still understand ye, despite tha' goddamned accent ye've got there." Ivy laughed a most manly laugh, which was not particularly good, since she was a woman.  
  
"Oh, you shut upp! I 'ave add enuff of your insults, you snooty English pig- dog!"  
  
"Blimey, you've got a little mouth on you, ye have!" chortled Ivy.  
  
The world slowly came into focus.....(damn camera lense!)  
  
Raucous laughter, to which they had been previously unaware of, filled the room. The two semi-altered warriors turned to see Yoshimitsu.  
  
Now, Yoshimitsu does look pretty strange, I must admit. But, his vast strangeness was nothing compared to what Raphael and Ivy were staring at. Both warriors groaned again (Note: for those of you who like detail, Ivy's groan was something to the effect of "Blimey, that's quite a...a...whateva the 'ell that is," and Raphael's was, almost exactly, "Oh 'eavens to betsy! Holy merde, that is...C'est tres interessante.")  
  
Standing in front of them was Yoshimitsu. The fact that he was wearing a straightjacket was not, in fact, the thing that had caused Raphael and Ivy to stare. I'm afraid I cannot specifically say what they were staring at, since the rating of this fanfic would fly through the roof, but you will figure it out in time.  
  
"Wha' are you laughin' at, you bloody twit!?" roared the Englishwoman.  
  
"You!" shrieked the ninja at the top of his lungs.  
  
"Vat about us, monsieur!? What iz so funny?"  
  
"Just....just...you...oh, I think I'm having a heart-attack!" Yoshimitsu collapsed on the floor of the room, laughing so hard he could've exploded in an unsavory blast of banana cream pie.  
  
"WHAT!" roared both warriors opposite him.  
  
Raphael and Ivy turned to each other, seeing each other in detail for the first time.  
  
The Frenchman, the noble Raphael de Sorel of France was garbed (very nobly) in an outfit that looked like a truly perverted visage of Napoleon. His chest had puffed out, his hand was permanently stuck in his irremovable military waistcoat (so pink you could vomit, you know the drill, RIGHT?). These things were all very silly, but the silliest of all may have been the one thing that Ivy was not looking at, but had the great misfortune to see when Raphael turned slightly.  
  
"YE'VE GOT THE BLOODY FRENCH FLAG ON YER....yer...yer..." she stopped talking, thinking better of it.  
  
"Well, madame fancy pointy-outy-all-my-shortcomings pants, you 'ave got ze flag of England on your...your...your..." he also paused, staring at the section of Ivy that lay nestled between her neck and belly while Ivy kept her gaze fixed on the area between Raphael's hips and knees from the rear.  
  
"It's....so...hilarious!" bellowed the ninja.  
  
"So what? Ye've got three...three...ye've got three....on yer chest...ye've got..."  
  
She gave up on talking altogether as the world went pink.  
  
No, wait, the world went BLACK! I said black, I did! You all heard me!  
  
Ok, I'm lying. It was pink.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Stay tuned for Chapter 5 – Follow the Yellow-Brick Toad, Coming Soon This one may not be up till Saturday. It might be up tomorrow, but that's unlikely. 


	5. Follow the YellowBrick Toad

Disclaimer: YES, I AM NAMCO! I OWN SC2!...............Oh, who am I kidding.  
  
Thank you AGAIN to all my loyal reviewers. Since this is my first publicized fic, you can't imagine how ecstatic I am after seeing all these good reviews. YAY!  
  
Dargon – Well, you've cut me to the quick. GOOD FOR YOU! I was actually daring people to find errors in my serious fics, but you still pried one right out of this one. When I have time, I will edit that. You should know, I don't have a beta reader because of...well...you'll find out someday. For now, I guess competent reviewers like you will have to do the job for me. KUDOS TO THEE!  
  
Also, on the subject of story: don't worry about that either. There is a full, extremely complicated story planned out well into the 20th Chapter. The storyline will be developed in this chapter and the next to begin with, then it will probably spiral out of control and kill us all.  
  
CHAPTER 5 – FOLLOW THE YELLOW-BRICK TOAD  
  
The world was in chaos...fuzzy pink chaos.  
  
Stuff was going to a very pink hell in a very pink hand basket (the kind of hand basket that became popular among the Muscovite socialites in the 1650's).  
  
But, somewhere out there (copyrighted, oooh yeah), someone was looking down on the pink with a particularly not-pink expression on his cold, emotionless face. He obviously wasn't happy. Of course, no one on Earth who knew what was going on was happy, but he was even more not happy than the other not happy people. He had the best reason, after all. Despite being not happy about the not happiness, he intended to do something about being not happy...and soon.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Parry, parry, thrust, thrust, gooood."  
  
"You know, that's Raphael's line." Commented Taki as she danced nimbly around Mitsurugi's blade. The Japanese mercenary spun to face her as he dodged.  
  
"I can say it if I want!" he almost pouted.  
  
"Raph's got patent pending on that, you know." The ninja pointed out as she executed a perfect somersault over Mitsurugi's head.  
  
"I don't think patents have been invented yet." Shot back the mercenary as he swiveled neatly in place, slicing what once had been Taki and now was naught but air.  
  
"Either way, stick to your own pre-fight taunts, ok?" The ninja snapped as she rolled beneath Mitsurugi as he leapt over her and brought his katana crashing down onto a poor defenseless woodchuck.  
  
"Stupid woodchuck," grumbled Mitsurugi before turning back to his opponent and hacking mercilessly at the space two feet in front of her, "Fine, if you really want. But that means you must do the same. I distinctly heard you say 'squirm' when you were throwing me into that tree earlier."  
  
Taki snorted indignantly, which somehow didn't sound right.  
  
"Alright, enough of this irritating banter," she said icily, "TIME TO-"  
  
"Hi"  
  
Taki and Mitsurugi spun simultaneously, a maneuver that looked far too choreographed.  
  
"Actually, I was going to say, 'Time to die,' not 'time to hi.' Can that be stricken from the record, please?"  
  
A voice from above nodded, which is a funny thing for voices to do. Now the battling duo looked more intently on the figure that had interrupted their "discourse."  
  
"Is that the new Business-Meeting Barbie model?" whispered Mitsurugi to Taki.  
  
"I heard that." Said the spitting image of a Business-Meeting Barbie doll, "Not only am I not that, I am not, in fact, a woman either, though it may look that way."  
  
"Who are you then?" Taki's eyebrow elevated as she stepped forward, inspecting the spiffy female in a tight business suit and high heels.  
  
"Does this ring a bell....hissssssssssss."  
  
"Oh shit...Voldo?" Mitsurugi's jaw dropped. Taki's jaw, on the other hand, remained firmly closed, though her eyes did pop out of her skull for exactly 3.58 seconds.  
  
"Yes, it's Voldo." Replied Voldo, indicating the pink katars he was holding.  
  
"But...you're thighs...they're so...they're just so..."  
  
"Yes, I know. Don't ask about the thighs...or the voice...actually, don't ask about anything, it'll just lead to R-rated controversy that we don't currently need.  
  
"Why are you here?" murmured Taki, still recovering of Post-Voldo-Thigh- Shock.  
  
"I've come to warn you. They are coming..." Voldo's voice would've been a lot more ominous if he didn't sound like he was going to go hang out at the mall with a bunch of girlfriends and discuss 17th Century women's clothing.  
  
"About what, exactly?...You're thighs?" Mitsurugi couldn't help it. He broke down laughing, letting his katana clatter unceremoniously to the floor.  
  
"No...I came to warn you...about the plot bunnies."  
  
Before what Voldo Barbie had said registered with the two combatants, the world went blinding pink again, a color which we are all far too familiar with by now.  
  
"Thanks for the introduction, ma'am, now let's get on with our planned spam.  
  
We'll settle this like democrats. Your curse shall be- OH SHIT WHAT's THA-"  
  
The pink blot bunny, floating like some omnipotent hairball, was suddenly ousted from his rhyming by a lightning bolt of pure, unadulterated yellow.  
  
A cornucopia of un-bunny-like swearing could be heard pouring from the remaining pinkness as yellow flooded the small area and overtook the last of the evil color that lingered.  
  
"Gud dA 2 u, lol." Said an extremely unpleasant croaking voice.  
  
"Who's there?" said Taki, Mitsurugi, and a very put off Voldo who was suddenly having morbid thoughts about accessorizing.  
  
"OMG!!!1!" shrieked the croak (or was it the shriek that croaked?) U need not no that now. Jus cum wit me or ILSE!!!!1!!!!1one"  
  
The three covered there ears as if seared by the very voice of death.  
  
"LOLOLOL! U CUM WIT ME NOOOW! ROFL!" roared the croaking shriek.  
  
"We don't even now who you are!" bellowed Mitsurugi over the deafening croaking, roaring, shrieking din.  
  
"U rely wnt 2 now?...Fin, ill show u, lololol roflmao."  
  
The yellow drifted apart to reveal more yellow. The blinding pink was one thing, but this blinding yellow was just annoying. For no apparent reason, Voldo groaned a very female groan and watched the curtains of tallow evil peel aside.  
  
What stood, or rather hovered in front of them, was a small yellow toad, surrounding by a radiating aura of pure crimson, the color of blood mixed with liquefied salami.  
  
"Im teh yello toad. U follo ME NOW! LOLOMGLOLWTFROFL!"  
  
Instead of going pink, the world actually went yellow for a moment as the yellow toad shot upward into the sky, followed closely by a very mentally disturbed Taki, an oddly unperturbed Mitsurugi, and a very fetching Voldo.  
  
In the sky they saw evil. Not pink evil, not evil evil, not even evil weevil...just plain evil...And it was grinning from ear to ear...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Stay tuned for Chapter 6 – Evil Uberness and its Ways, Coming TOMORROW! 


	6. Evil Uberness and its Ways

Disclaimer: No I don't own SC2. I probably don't own plot bunnies or yellow toads either. There is another character in here I certainly don't own, but only an idiot would think I did.  
  
Note: In case people didn't figure it out, a majority of the spelling/grammatical errors in the last chapter were intentional...just making sure you got that.  
  
Second Note: This chapter may not be as funny as other chapters, but that's because I need to get across a lot of information that will start molding the future funniness of the storyline.  
  
CHAPTER 6 – EVIL UBERNESS AND ITS WAYS  
  
Though this could be considered completely irrelevant, I will say it anyway...  
  
In Austin, Texas, in the year 2004, the Security Administrators of a small banking firm were having major problem analyzing the building networks. They finally created a computerized tool which could help them and used it each day from that day forward, unto the ending of the world.  
  
That device was called the Security Administrators Tool for Analyzing Networks...  
  
Since it was such a long name for such a small tool, it was reverted into an acronym.  
  
If one were more philosophical, one would've realized who's really created the Security Administrators Tool for Analyzing Networks...think about it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Might I ask where we're going exactly?  
  
"Me no tll u now!!1!!" said the croaking voice with amazing enthusiasm. For good measure it added "OMG!" about a second later.  
  
"It would really be nice to know." Grumbled Voldo, who was actually starting to enjoy all of the strange thoughts coursing through his brain.  
  
"WE R HER!!!LOL1!!!!1!!!one!!!!1!!!one!"  
  
Despite being "there," it still took half an hour for Taki, Mitsurugi, and Voldo to recover from the devastating effects of the toads deafening bellow.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Taki's eyes shot open very suddenly when a sound that was almost as loud (but not half as painful) as the yellow toad croaking. It sounded vaguely like a hellish bullhorn that was being held right beside her ear, which wasn't very pleasant to hear. The ninja jumped up, accidentally following through with a flawless triple somersault before landing on one leg.  
  
Somewhere in the shadows of the room she was in, someone held up a sign that said "9.8." Usually, signs don't say anything, since they're inanimate objects, but this sign was very talkative.  
  
From behind her, Taki heard and eerie noise...which was only magnified in eeriness when she turned around.  
  
She wasn't sure at first what she saw standing, or quite possibly floating, behind her. She was very sure it wasn't a yellow toad, considering the pure and unmitigated blackness that was fairly radiating from it. It was not large at all. Actually, if Taki's eyes hadn't taken to lying to their owner, the shadowy figure was barely half her size. He was plenty ominous, creepy, scary, freaky, and other stuff, but still not very tall.  
  
"Glad to see you're awake." said a voice from within the floating shadow.  
  
"Umm...yeah...Who exactly are-"  
  
"I have a lot of names. Honestly, I don't think you're entirely capable of memorizing them all. I can't even pronounce a good third of them...and those are just the human ones."  
  
"Just give me a general idea." Said the ninja glumly.  
  
The shadow sighed a very evil sigh and began.  
  
"You can call me Pluto, Beelzebub, Huitzupochtli, Hades, Jormungand, Surter, Morthaur, Amatsu Mikaboshi, Ulupoka, Chu Jong, Skatha, Morrigan, Kali, Ereshkigal, Tiamat, Satan, Lucifer, or even Old Horny (if you're from West Virginia)."  
  
Taki considered for a long and painful moment while the shadow twiddled its shadowy thumbs.  
  
"So...you're the devil?" She asked, getting straight to the point.  
  
"Of course not," replied the shadow calmly, "Those are just names I've been given. I'm, more specifically, the incarnation of all evil on this planet. People often seek to find names for that evil, hence all the titles. You should hear some of things animals call me. I jaguar once stubbed its toe and called that the ultimate evil, so one of my less well known names is actually 'Stubbed Toe' in jaguarspeak."  
  
"That's...very interesting, I suppose. Why am I here? Why are you here?"  
  
"It's a very long and complicated story...Would you like to hear it?" said the shadow eagerly.  
  
"Fine." grumbled the ninja, sitting on a chair which wasn't really there.  
  
"Alright, I'll start from the beginning...Ok, it's not really the beginning, but I've always wanted to say that. You see, I am this world's view of all true evil; the evilest evil there is. There are a lot of lesser evils, like the evil of a bad hair day or the evil of a rabid lemur. I am over all these evils, they are all a small part of me. There is one evil, though, that has become a greater, more powerful part of me. That evil is the evil that has overtaken this world right now."  
  
"You mean Voldo's fashion sense and the pink?"  
  
"Yes, that. Very perceptive, you are. Alright, on with the story then. This evil is the evil that is part of the Euro-Evil Corps, Greek Division, Olympian Pantheon, Sub-Division Alpha, Section 5.8986376. She is the Deity of Pink, Fuzzy, Cute Evil; The kind of evil that flows through you when you see a rabbit that is just too cute to be good, and therefore must be an agent of evil."  
  
"Ok, I think I follow you."  
  
"Don't follow me. Stalking is evil, that's my department. Point is, this evil, which goes by the name of Jenny, has come by an incredible amount of power. Usually, I would be fine with some evil deity becoming all-powerful, but her evil is evil even for me, the ultimate evil. Pink isn't really evil, it's just wrong, sick and wrong. None of the countless evils of the universe like Jenny, for obvious reasons."  
  
"Could you get to the point, please?"  
  
"NEVER RUSH THE ULTIMATE EVIL!" roared the shadow, drawing itself up to its full height (which, incidentally, wasn't very tall), "AM I BORING YOU, HMM? WELL, GOOD! I'M EVIL AND BORINGNESS IS EVIL! UNDERSTAND?!"  
  
Taki gulped and nodded. Even though the floating shadow was still smaller than her, it was pretty imposing when it spoke loudly.  
  
"Ok, where was I? Oh yes, the countless evils of the universe. So, no evil likes Jenny, because of the pinkness and the cuteness. Now that she's taken over the world and plunged it into pinkness, it's the job of all other evils to get it back from her pink clutches and plunge it into darkness."  
  
"So, that still doesn't explain why I'm here...wherever 'here' is."  
  
"You're here because I had my yellow toad bring you, an your two 'companions.' One should know that the yellow toad spouting incomprehensible netspeak is the polar opposite of a rhyming pink bunny. That's why I sent him, to conquer that plot bunny that was about to do horrible, horrible (not evil, horrible) things to you."  
  
"WHY AM I HERE? JUST TELL ME!"  
  
The shadow grumbled silently and spoke again, "You're here because I need you and your brethren to do something for me. Evil deities cannot do anything on Earth, but we can get others to do it for us. I chose you, the mercenary, and the other...umm...person, to re-conquer the world for the side of true evil."  
  
"What in hell makes you think I would agree to that?"  
  
"Firstly, don't say 'hell,' it's an inaccurate derogatory term about my summer home which some idiot invented. Secondly, I know you won't agree to it. That's why I'm putting you three through merciless and rigorous Evil Uberness Training Classes for the next three weeks. You'll be molded into the perfect supervillain warriors of supreme and utter darkness after a few harsh lessons. Upon completion of the course, you will be my Trinity of Evil Uberness, wreaking havoc on the pinkness of the world. Sooo...that sound good to you?"  
  
"Well, no, but I assume there's nothing I can do about it."  
  
"Smart girl."  
  
And the world went black, which was very, very relieving for Taki.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Stay tuned for Chapter 7 – Of Pickles and Copyright Infringement, Coming Soon. 


	7. Pickles and Copyright Infringement

Disclaimer: Dunna own SC2, na na na na, I ain't Namco, na na na na. Look out for an ending disclaimer.  
  
Reviewers, thankee kindly. Each in turn.  
  
Dargon: Just to satiate you, when this fic is done, I will go over the whole thing and edit grammar, spelling, etc. Until then, there will inevitably be errors. I should thank you for your help as my honorary beta reader...but I won't...Ok, fine, I will. Thank you. Sorry you don't know what I'm talking about, but you're not really supposed to. By the way...don't mean to nitpick...but one of your corrections was wrong. "Administrators" is, in fact, spelled right, unless you meant something else (in which case, feel free to hit me with a spiked mace).  
  
RKJS – Ooh, another JRRT fan (I'm guessing). Tres interessante. Well, the religious presence is merely for laughs. I should mention that I am, in fact, a theologian as well as a writer, which is why I came up with so many colorful names for the incarnation of pure evil.  
  
CHAPTER 7 – PICKLES AND COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT  
  
"You can do it, Talim, c'mon, believe in yourself."  
  
"That schizophrenic thing you've got going on is very disconcerting." Muttered Siegfried, laughing quietly to himself. He was experiencing a lot of humorous feelings ever since his recent release from the jaws/claws/maws (hey, that rhymes!) of Soul Edge. Now, he simply had nothing better to do than mock the teenage girl trying and failing to kill him.  
  
The two of them, Talim and Siegfried, were now engaged in a display of witticisms on a small plateau in the middle of nowhere....also called Serbia.  
  
"Shut up, weird dude." snapped the teenager, whipping one elbow blade around to illustrate her firmness on the matter.  
  
"If I were you, kid, I wouldn't call me that." growled the knight.  
  
"Eh, you're nothing without that big-ass sword."  
  
"Umm...I've still got a big-ass sword, girl."  
  
"Well, it doesn't have an eye on it. At least you can't see why kids like Cinnamon Toast Crunch!"  
  
"Ye gods, you really are crazy."  
  
"QUIET! HAVE AT YOU!" Talim lunged, bringing her elbow blades sailing forward.  
  
Siegfried, yawning in a particularly bored fashion, sidestepped the teenager. She, being the energetic youth she was, recovered almost instantly and sprung back into the fray...only to be quickly and rudely halted by a bony, semi-disconnected hand.  
  
Standing in front of her, his arms neatly crossed in front of him, each bony hand holding a short blade, was the Cyclops demon with another big ol' eyeball inside him, namely Charade.  
  
"Charade?" mumbled the girl as she skidded to a stop. She'd seen him before (actually, the first time the two of them met was in a bar, in a giant chicken-shaped building, in a horrible, caffeine-induced nightmare, but that's another story entirely).  
  
"What exactly are you doing here?' Siegfried grumbled more than asked.  
  
Obviously, Charade didn't respond, because he couldn't. He didn't feel the need anyway. He simply let his mind scan that off the aforementioned grumbler and watched with his single eye as his two blades merged and swelled into a "Big-Ass Sword."  
  
Too bad he didn't have time to fight or even show his strength. As Talim watched, Siegfried grumbled, and Charade blinked a lot, the world slowly oozed into a murky pink color, with which we are all very, very sick by now.  
  
And thus began the speaking of....c'mon guess...YES! Another plot bunny...  
  
"Hello, peeps, I'll make this quick, so as not to seem too sick.  
  
Seig, you're over compensating with that sword your excavating.  
  
So I say it will get small, as will you, your sword, and all."  
  
"What are you talking about?" queried the teenager, feeling left out.  
  
"Talim, Talim, teenage girl, young one, upon you I unfurl  
  
This curse. Since you're already mad, you shan't find this wee curse so bad."  
  
"Charade, oh demon who can't talk, can't speak, can't sing can't even squawk.  
  
Since you must copy other's styles To speak, their phrases you'll compile."  
  
"Buddy, none of that made ANY SENSE WHATSOEVER!" roared Talim, feeling very hyper all of a sudden. She actually mustered up some courage and made a leap at the pink, failing miserably in her course.  
  
Unfortunately, if Talim had jumped but a moment earlier, she might've done something worthwhile. In truth, all she did was leap at nothing and land on something....hard. When she sprung to her feet, a truly horrible feeling pulsed in her veins as all the pink immediately dematerialized.  
  
The teenager looked down at herself, realizing how very strange she felt, and noticed something that could be considered an advantage to her in some countries and/or situations.  
  
She had six, short, pudgy arms...which were really more pickles than arms.  
  
Of course, her incredible new weirdness was vastly dwarfed by those of Siegfried and Charade, considering. The former knight was now three feet tall, was wearing a miniature clown suit, and holding something that resembled a lollipop. Charade, on the other hand, looked perfectly normal....except for the black top had an tuxedo that had somehow been permanently attached to his body.  
  
"OOOGISHMOOGI!" roared Talim, not realizing what she was saying in an obvious state of pure madness, "WHAT THE SCHMIGIGGLE IS GOIN' ON 'ROUND HERE, Y'ALL!?"  
  
"Trust me, I really have no idea." Said the strangely cute, small and high- pitched voice of Siegfried Schtauffen.  
  
"Talim, I am your father," said Charade in an extremely full and robotic voice.  
  
"PARDONEZ-MOI, MON CAPITAN SIGNORE?! WHAT WAS THAT CHICKEN LIVER YOU JUST SAID THAR!?"  
  
"Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get."  
  
"He's starting to get really annoying." Shot Mini-Sieg at the demon.  
  
"OH REALLY? WELL, LA-DEE-FRICKIN-DA, SHORTIE!"  
  
Now, this incredibly painful dialogue could've continued, but, thankfully, it didn't.  
  
They were interrupted by a giant yellow turtle with a beauteous aria and atonal vomiting noises coming from its yellow back, which was worming its way along the ground at and incredible pace for such a gargantuan turtle.  
  
"FASTEEEEEEEEEEEEER, YOU DAMNED TUUUUUUUUURTLE!" said the wonderfully melodic voice of Cervantes de Leon, only slightly less supple than Cher's, from the back of the beast.  
  
"Ok, somebody tell me that's not Cervantes singing soprano on top of a giant yellow turtle." Said Mini-Sieg.  
  
"I'M AFRIAD 'TIS, JIMMY CRACK CORN!" bellowed Talim, waving her six pickles wildly.  
  
"GO FLIPPER! WOOOOO!" shrieked Charade.  
  
"Whoooooooo's down theeeeeere?" sung Cervantes, sweetly crooning from the turtle's back.  
  
Maxi the pirate, spewing a seemingly endless supply of colorful flowers from his mouth, leapt with extreme agility down from the turtle. He didn't speak, primarily because he couldn't find the time in between bouts of flower-vomiting, and was content just to stand there. Cervantes also jumped down a pirouetted like a true ballerina as he alighted.  
  
"Goooooood to seeeeee you all. We'll just be goooooooing now."  
  
"Going? Why on earth are you here if you're going somewhere else." Squeaked Mini-Sieg.  
  
"Well, actuallyyyyyyyy, we're running, you seeeeee."  
  
"RUNNIN' FROM WHATTA EXACTLY, MISS MUFFET?"  
  
"Thaaaaaaaaat!" said Cervantes, with trembling vibrato in his voice as he pointed over at the horizon.  
  
Growing in the distance was a wave of pure, completely untainted and horrible pink. Astabunny, in all his malevolent glory, led the pink. Even though the motley crew couldn't really tell, the pink was actually Astabunny's ruthless army of bunny warriors. It was really quite a sight to behold.  
  
The long, painful, awestruck silence was broken by Charade.  
  
"We're going to need a bigger boat."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Stay tuned for Chapter 8 – Grand Theft Otto, Coming Soon.  
  
End Disclaimer: All Charade's quotes are from famous movies, songs, plays, poems, etc. Most will be recognizable, 


End file.
